Tag Archives: advice
Guest blog: What happens when you discover Doxy
One of my favourite things about being a sex blogger is introducing people to new sex toys that they end up loving as much as I do. Recently someone emailed me to say thanks for recommending the We Vibe Nova 2 (a fucking excellent vibe, and I think one of my most shared blog posts ever, most likely because it was written in the midst of some Emotional Turmoil), and I get plenty these days about Zumio and AMO as well – both excellent clit vibes which Do The Fucking Job in ways that make my eyes roll back in my head. But when it comes to these moments, there’s one toy above all others that blows my inbox up with love: the Doxy. Today’s guest post is by the fabulous Emilia Romero, who wrote this stunning guest post about losing her husband and finding BDSM. Today she’s back with a hot and beautiful story showing what happens when you discover Doxy…
It’s hard to write a blog when there’s a plague on
Obvious point: it’s hard to write a blog when there’s a plague on. Especially a personal blog which relies on telling stories. At the moment the world is mostly flooded with two types of story: the boring and the horrible. There are rare, lovely, sexy moments of joy, and I try to capture those when my brain is functioning, splatter them onto the page and hit ‘publish’ quickly before I have too long to second guess whether they’re good enough. But I’m mostly here for honesty so I’m just going to say it plainly: it’s hard to write a blog when there’s a plague on.
I’m not making resolutions this New Year
Big news, team: we’re not making resolutions this New Year. We’re not telling ourselves to change our body shape or stamp out bad habits. We’re not asking each other if we’re doing Dry January or nagging people about how they live their lives. We’re not making resolutions this New Year, we’re embracing dreams.
Body confidence: I think I (fleetingly) found it
We’re fucking in front of a mirror, with his hands on my hips and me face-on, tits jiggling and arms reaching behind me so I can hold the back of his head and neck and grip him tightly while he pounds it in. We both look really fucking good and for some reason I don’t feel the awkward-shameful nervousness I would usually feel to see my naked body this close. This jiggly. This… exposed. I think what I have today might be body confidence.
This is not a Christmas gift guide
This is not a Christmas gift guide, because in my family we’re not doing gifts this year – we’re doing ‘hugging those we can and vid calling those we can’t and making plans for a big fuckoff party once we’ve all received our vaccines’. I checked my calendar this morning and was unsurprised to discover that 2020 has lasted at least ten years so far. And while it’s glorious that we’re now hurtling rapidly towards the end of it, with joyful vaccine news on the horizon, I don’t think any shiny presents will be sparkly enough to brighten what’s been such an objectively devastating time. So this is not a Christmas gift guide.
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